Meet Mirkwood
by aknightofni
Summary: When wounded, Elrohir was brought by his twin to Mirkwood for healing. The two had never before encountered the woodland elves and did not expect what was to come. Why not read this and give it a try? I'm bad at summaries.
1. Healing in Mirkwood

Meet Mirkwood

(title may be changed later on)

written by aknightofni

Disclaimer: This is a Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit fanfiction. I do not own any rights to the Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or any other novel written by JRR Tolkien or movie made by New Line Cinema.

There are several direct quotes from Tolkien in this fanfiction to enhance the story. These will be marked off between quote marks like so '…' If characters are saying direct phrases from Tolkien the phrases will be marked like so: "'…'"

It was cold, so cold that the men could see their breath led before them out like little puffs of ice. They were also nervous, so nervous that their hands shook and their swords lightly clashed onto their shields.

They were, in fact, a moment before battle. Realizing that the man standing beside each one of them was probably not going to survive the night made the burden ever harder to bear. The night drew close upon them, chilling them to the bone and casting away all thoughts of the sun rising joy upon them.

A thick storm had been brewing. The sons of Elrond, who rode alongside the men, could sense its coming. It would be indeed a difficult time for the warriors. They would be cold, wet, and in grave peril.

Elrohir lowered his head as he heard a horn of the rival army and the first rain drop hit the soft, dry earth. He and his brother always joined battles when they heard of an approaching one. They craved the adventure, but most of all the justice it served to see those that tortured their mother ruthlessly, those foul, heartless orcs, murdered.

Coming up at his side, his brother whispered worriedly. "The men are doomed against these goblins!"

"Ah, but Elladan!" Elrohir declared through the crisp wind, "Have you forgotten that they have allies? We're here and can surely add something to this fight!"

Elladan bit his lip and steadied his bow in front of him. Goblins were something he found particularly nasty and unwanted, but tough little warriors. They came in masses, on wargs and on foot. There were sure to be three of them for each man on the field. Not to mention, the men's horses could not fight as the wargs could. They were outnumbered.

"Where is Mirkwood!?" Elrohir asked crossly to no one in particular. "They are an ally of the Men of the Long Lake! They should certainly be here!"

"The KingThranduil wouldn't drain his precious gold into a war to defend someone other than himself." Elladan answered. The man beside him gave him a desperate glance, causing the elf to turn silent.

It was then that the storm hit- both, in fact. The rain drenched downward from the skies and the goblins swarmed over the open, golden grass fields toward the men, destruction sure to come. The first arrow was fired by a goblin and the second by Elladan. The fight had begun.

Elrohir had broken off from his brother shortly after firing his third arrow. He was fighting on his own near a group of adolescent warriors, who were terribly frightened at the idea of a battle. Elrohir knew that when the first one fell, the others would be disheartened and despaired. Therefore, he felt it his duty to accompany them.

The lads seemed quite grateful to the elf's presence, and they fought alongside each other for many hours. Although it grew to be pitch black come night, they could still hear the rapid breathing and the battle calls of one another. Elrohir could only hope that his brother was doing alright with the goblins, which were still coming forcefully at them with unmanageable numbers.

Suddenly there was a violent cry and Elrohir could see with his sharp elven eyes the faintest shadow of a boy falling to the ground, an arrow in his middle. This caused Elrohir to hesitate in his fighting, as it greatly saddened him to see the death of the lad. Suddenly there was a sharp growl from behind him and a driving force went through him. He fell to his knees and cried out in pain, feeling his own blood flow down his body. The world was spinning around him and he was unable to piece together what he saw. He eventually succumbed to the darkness.

Elladan had been fighting with a fury Elrond would have envied himself. He had the strength of many elves and the will of several hundred. He had always been a great warrior, but he had to admit as he fought that he was doing some of his best fighting he'd ever done before.

His hopes, however, were fading as he saw a looming shadow boring across the land in the distance toward them. He was positive it was more goblins coming to slaughter what was left of the falling men, but was relieved to see elves leading the army and bringing down several hundred of the goblins. Mirkwood had finally come to the rescue.

The goblin army had soon diminished, although late into the night, into a crowd of several dozen of which the Mirkwood army quickly escorted back with them to their realm. The remaining warriors scanned the land for survivors of the long and grim battle that had taken place.

Elladan called to them and, in shock, a voice called, "Eldalie! Eldalie!"

An elegant elf on a brilliantly white steed rode upward, his gold and silk tunic lightly splattered with blood. He strode royally toward Elladan, his long, golden hair flowing in the breeze behind him through the darkness. "Are there any others?" he asked curiously.

"My brother…" Elladan's heart turned to ice when he heard the frantic cry of a young lad, "He's wounded sir! He's wounded!"

"Oh, pity." The regal elf said, but sympathetically. "We can take him to Mirkwood. We have fairly good healers there that I believe could help him. They've helped me out of many troubles."  
Elladan could feel a tear slip down his face as his brother was brought over to him by several men, Elrohir's gaunt face soaked with sweat and tears of pain. There was blood soaking his tunic where he was hit with the arrow and a possibly lethally deep wound in his middle. "We would be so grateful."

At this, the regal elf whistled and a stretcher was brought out before them, on which Elrohir was laid and taken away into the dark forest that stood powerfully ahead of them.

Elrohir awoke to the sound of a beautiful melody played lightly by a harpsichord. It greatly confused him, as the last thing he remembered was falling to the ground and vomiting blood. His first impulse was that he was dead and would hear the harpsichord for the rest of eternity. His second was that he by some chance had survived his little mishap and the people who had taken him into their healing quarters simply played the harpsichord very well.

The latter overtook and he called out into the air, "Elladan!" Surely, he guessed, his brother was nearby.

A tall, graceful elf with an overbearing mien stepped into the room and spoke softly in Sindarin to him, which Elrohir had learned to understand when he was a mere lad. The elf was speaking about his terrible wound and how fortunate he was that the royal troops had found him lying there, sprawled across the ground. That was only half true, of course, as Elladan, one of the lads and a few men had been the first few to see him injured, but Elrohir nodded, not knowing what was exaggerated or pompous while in such a state. The main point Elrohir could grasp was that he was alive after two days from the battle and would be alive to see his immortality pass by him, although in the present state he was very weak and would not be permitted to leave bed for a week.

Elladan watched the regal elf out of the corner of his eye as they sat in a spacious, ornate parlor. This new realm was quite different from Rivendell and he disliked it from the first moment he had laid eyes on it. He was not even sure if the elves there could be trusted. He had heard so many stories of the king's sly, cruel, jealous, impatient, high-tempered, and greedy ways that he was shaking with nervousness that he would have to meet their leader.

Legolas seemed courteous enough, but Elladan could not help but distrust him. He was probably sly, cruel, jealous, impatient, high-tempered, and greedy like his father. Although he had not shown these qualities yet, he was certainly a pampered prince. He was the type of prince that had servants waiting on his hands and feet. It was almost sickening.

Although it was only his first night in Mirkwood, Elladan wanted to leave. Elrohir had not even woken up yet, and he was afraid that he would die. Elladan could not help but think it would have been better for Elrohir to die in brave combat over the dark, dank Mirkwood.

The parlor was lined with gold and was beautifully stone crafted. It was bright by a large amount of crystal chandeliers and there were candles on practically every table so that no corner was dark, contrary to the name 'Mirkwood.' The furniture itself seemed to be designed to make anyone who used it feel privileged. There was a large, beautiful harpsichord in the corner, where a musician played lightly away at it and there was a plushy group of cushions on which the elves and their guests sat to speak with one another. Elladan and Legolas sat upon these.

Legolas interrupted his thoughts by offering brightly, "Wine?" A servant was standing beside him holding out several goblets of the red liquid.  
Elladan shook his head in response, causing both Legolas and the servant to appear quite insulted at the action. It was as if declining a wine in Mirkwood was like making a jest about the king.

"No one has ever declined our wine." Legolas frowned. "Surely you would like to taste some. I can guarantee that you will like what touches your tongue."

"I'm not really in the mood." Elladan replied, but finally gave in by the pleading look on the elf's face. He took a goblet and lifted it to his lips, taking a sip. The red liquid ran down his throat and he could not deny that it was very tasteful wine. "Excellent," he commented, to stop Legolas from staring at him expectantly.

"I thought so." Legolas answered. "The Men of the Long Lake make these. They have well looked after vineyards down there. In fact, Mirkwood owns several of them. We cannot grow wines in our forest. Is it not the best wine you've ever tasted?"  
"It is certainly the best wine I've ever tasted." Elladan repeated in annoyance. It was true, but certainly it was not a conversation that he wanted to be having. His brother had just been wounded severely in battle! Wines were no concern to him!  
"Ah, did I fail to mention you are to meet the king tonight?" Legolas asked.

Elladan nearly sprayed out his wine. "Pardon?"

"My father." Legolas continued. "He wished to see you. After all, we are assuming you are going to stay in Mirkwood with your brother until he has fully healed. He would like to meet his guest. He has actually requested to dine with you. Oh don't worry. I'll be right with you. He's really nothing to be worried about. You're a prince. You deal with royalty quite often." A servant then came in and announced dinner, upon which Legolas said brightly, "Follow me."

"Splendid." Elladan said slowly. If only Elrohir could see him then, dining with the king of Mirkwood! If Elrohir wasn't injured, Elladan would've thrown a square blow to his face for this.

Elladan entered the dining room, which was decorated much like the parlor, also with a harpsichord, and was seated across from him and Legolas at the table. The three were very silent until dinner was served- a dinner of roasted fowl and herbs. The king then proceeded to ask questions, but to Legolas about Elladan, not directly to Elladan.

"He is a warrior of Imladris, Adar." Legolas replied. "A leader of his father's army. He is a son of Elrond."

"Is he now?" Thranduil's face seemed to turn disgruntled at this, as if there had been a long feud between the two elf breeds.

"I thank you for your hospitality." Elladan stated. "Although my brother is still in an unconscious state, he would say the same as I. I am charmed by Mirkwood- its elegance, its music, its ornate decorum, its wonderful servants and of course its wine."

"You befriend humans and receive nothing in return?" Thranduil inquired.

"Well…yes your highness." Elladan answered. "My brother and I seek battles and fight on the side of the good."  
"And receive nothing in return?" Thranduil pressed again.

"Well…no." Elladan paused and realized that he was unacceptable in Thranduil's eyes. His glanced to Legolas, who showed no emotion whatsoever on the subject.

"That is unwise!" Thranduil laughed. "So unwise indeed! Imagine all of the gold you could be accumulating if you charged for your talents!"  
"Perhaps I will take your wise advice and do so in the future," Elladan replied, although, similar to his other statements made, not truthfully.

"I'll ask for ten percent!" Thranduil laughed, raising his glass and offering a toast to Elladan's success, completely ignoring the fact that Elrohir was lying on a bed three rooms away gasping for dear life.

"Adar," Legolas interrupted. "Perhaps we should drink to our other guest's health?"

Finally, Elladan sighed exasperatedly, someone remembered!

"Well," Thranduil said to disguise his fault, "I was getting to that! To the lad's health!" He raised his glass and took a drink.

"That was an excellent meal," Elladan answered. "If I may be excused, I would like to pay my brother a visit and see how he fares."

"Our healers are very talented." Thranduil said sharply.

"I am quite sure, but it would give me much comfort to hold his hand, your highness." Elladan replied. Once Thranduil had given him leave, he crept outside the room and slid down against a wall. That had been quite an evening. He had to keep on guard the entire time, Thranduil was so sly. Thranduil was also obsessively greedy, Elladan had noticed.

A moment later, to Elladan's dislike, Legolas appeared at his side, frowning. "Alright, perhaps I was wrong. That wasn't as simple as I said it would be. My father is quite _unique_."

"It was as if he was made of gold himself, he found the metal so precious." Elladan said uncontrollably. He held his breath to see if Legolas would reverberate by throwing him in the dungeons, but instead the elf laughed and replied, "Ten percent!"

"I'm going to visit my brother," Elladan stated, suddenly taking a slight liking to the prince who had finally shown some sign of normalcy. "Then afterward, by your leave of course, I am going to retire for the night."

"Aye, of course!" Legolas answered. "It is nearly early morning, and you have been fighting battles all yesterday and last night. A servant will show you to your room after you are finished with your brother. Goodnight." Then he left him.

Elladan made his way quickly over to the healing quarters and was disappointed deeply to find that Elrohir had not yet awakened and would not for a many days. His state was very grave and it brought sadness to Elladan's eyes to see his twin possibly on the verge of death.

The pale figure of Elrohir was drenched in the reddest of bloods. He was wrapped in pure white bandages and had his eyes closed whilst he dreamt, unusual for an elf. His chest rose steadily up and down and his pulse beat surely, but Elladan could not help but shed tears for his brother to see him so- to see his strong warrior kin in such pain.

I have the next chapter written already.

I hope you enjoyed my first chapter- send me some feedback please!!!!!! Thank you for reading, please review!

Update coming soon.

- aknightofni


	2. Escape from Mirkwood

Hello Hello!!!  
Thank you so much to my reviewers of my first chapter!!!

WhiteTigeress326- I'm so glad you like the story!!!!!!!!! Pompous and girly were very good words to describe Legolas!

justso - Bravo, that's a nice long review, so you're getting a long response. Ah, yes my facts are very-er- off. I will take what you said and try to incorporate it into my story. I must say first though that I do not believe in evil Thranduil's either. I've based this Thranduil in this story solely on what was said in the Hobbit about him (although I still don't trust my facts). He loves gold, he hates dwarves, but is certainly a great king (that one I haven't gotten around to yet. LoL) I have however, for some bizarre reason, added in the woodelves having a feud with those of Imladris, which I pondered much about while I wrote. It shall not be a political feud then. I'll find a personal reason, in fact, I already have one in the back of my mind. As for the whole language thing, I apologize, another one of my errors. Harpsichord I'm afraid, I am going to have to keep though. I rather like the name harpsichord. I am not perfect, this story is not perfect, so therefore I do like my harpsichord. Yes, I may be slightly insane. Thank you for your time and review! I appreciate it.

Jordy- I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! Thank you for the feedback!

random person- Thank you for your praise!!!!

Capnjackb- ahhhhh, what a difficult one to reply to! :) I love you!!!!!!!! Ok. First off. I'm so glad you loved my setting!!!!! I worked hard on my settings :) Yes, Mirkwood Healer would be a very good name…I should really consider it!! As for the mother of Elladan and Elrohir, how she was captured etc is explained slightly by Tolkien, but I shall take your advice and talk about it in the story…that actually gives me another idea for a chapter. Thank you so much!!!!

All of you thank you so much and please review again!

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. Merely a fanfic! I do not own!

Well here you go, I must apologize if my facts are, yet again, messy. I had this written before I got your reviews, I'm sorry to say, but in the future I will try my best to incorporate your feedback. Also, I hope this chapter is not too short!!! Well, please enjoy and review!!!!

Elladan awoke slowly in mid-day to find that his weapons were missing and so was the little bit of gold he had kept with him. Rotten thieves, those woodelves! He cursed before dressing into the clothes lain out for him by the servants and joining the royal party in a luncheon.

As he sat in the gold-lined dining area, he watched the king across from him with much distaste. He was glad that he was still accepted enough to dine with the royal household, as that meant he was on good terms and there would little altercations.

Overcome with confusion about his missing bow and arrows, those very weapons that had been beautifully handcrafted by the elves of Lorien and given to him by Galadriel when he was a small lad, he asked the king, "Your highness, pardon for my words, but I cannot find my weapons. If I may be allowed to request to receive them back as they are very precious to me-"

"Weapons are not allowed in the presence of the king." A guard sneered from beside Thranduil. "In the case that his guests may attempt to take his life."

"That is alright, although I have no intention of harming your king." Elladan replied to the guard, "I just request that I receive them back when I leave to return to Imladris." His eyes followed Legolas's glare to a guard whom was holding one of Elladan's arrows as if they were his own. Elladan said nothing however, as he did not wish to anger the king.

"We will be so kind," the guard said nastily, "-as to purchase you new weapons."

"The originals were given to me at my coming of age ceremony." Elladan frowned. "I beg you that when I leave I receive my bow and arrows back- and my brother his as well."

"You are in the realm of the woodland king." The guard answered. "Nothing is assured to _intruders_."

"Elladan and his brother are my guests," Legolas replied, although still in a very collected state. His eyes settled firmly on the guard as he spoke. "They will not be treated as intruders, and they have not been so far. Why then do you speak of them as intruders?"  
The guard bowed apologetically, but Thranduil answered the question, "My son, your guests are strangers to this land. They are sons of Elrond. Surely, they do not belong here in our realm. They are from _Imladris_." The king said 'Imladris' with such distaste that it spurred anger inside of Elladan.

"Imladris is my home, and the home of my people. I cannot let an insult be heard about it." Elladan replied. He was neither bitter nor disrespectful when he spoke, but merely stated the matter. "I beg you do not speak of it in such a manner. You may keep the gold and weapons you have taken from us, but you cannot take our pride."

"Dungeons!" Thranduil snarled quickly. "I will not have this elf speak to me in such a manner!" At this, Elladan was brought away from them and bound in ropes where he was thrown into a dark cell and could only hope that the prince would be able to talk him out of his bind.

"What in middle Earth is wrong with you!?" Legolas shouted, exasperated. They were still in the dining area, both seated over the cold luncheon. Legolas had lost the last thread of his patience with his father's cruel orders and finally decided to confront the situation. Elladan had done nothing wrong, merely asked for what was his to be given back to him and defended his own lands, and yet Thranduil had thrown him into the dungeons for it.

"Ion nin, you will say not a word more on the subject." Thranduil ordered. "Is that perfectly clear to you?"

"Elladan was simply asking for his coming-of-age arrows to be given back to him after your guards stole them! What thievery! They have stolen his gold!" Legolas answered.

"Perhaps so." Thranduil replied, surprisingly calm, "But no foreigner shall ever again speak to me so boldly! This is indeed my realm."

"Are you trying to start a war!?" Legolas demanded, desperate for this new view on the situation to somehow change the king's mind. "The mistreatment of a son of Elrond will bear a severe penalty to Mirkwood! I will not bring my armies to attack Imladris if time comes the need to defend ourselves from them, as we were the wrongdoers to begin with."

"You will do as I order!" Thranduil stood to his feet, staring his son directly into his glass-like blue eyes. He knew he did not want war, however, and he knew that he did not wish to send his son against his will into battle. They were only false words that flamed off his tongue, a determination at justifying his own actions.

"Adar!" Legolas cried desperately. "Imladris has armies that are ten times fiercer than our own! We could not survive a frontal attack from them! Not after so many recent skirmishes that you've caused with your greed!"

"Leave my site!" Thranduil snarled, and Legolas could do nothing but comply and leave the king of Mirkwood to mull over his words in his mind.

Elladan looked up at sharp clanging sound through murky cell and asked who was there. He was delighted to find that it was Legolas, unlocking his cell in a secretive manner. He was holding a dim candle out in front of him and Elladan could see the grief flickering onto the elf's face.

"I-I must apologize for the behavior of my father." Legolas pressed firmly. "He has been shadowed in grief for my mother for so long that it has consumed him. That I am afraid, is a story for another time. I have stolen back your arrows for you, though before I give them to you I must first beg that you take the steed I give you and ride to Imladris." He shoved a bag into Elladan's hands full of lembas bread, canteens of water, and arrows. "You cannot be seen by anyone but myself. I will take care of your brother- but you must go. My father will be enraged if he hears of your absence from the cell so it would be best that you leave immediately. Do not get caught or you will be beaten or killed. Heed my words. I will lead you to the grey steed closest to the stable doors and from there take you to a path through the forest where from there you can return to Imladris. Do not go off the path. Keep your weapons close to you, as there are terrible creatures that roam our woods. Do not drink from our streams. They are contaminated with a sleeping draught as a caution to foreigners. Keep away from the reach of my kin."

From here, Legolas, led Elladan through a narrow stairway upward into a large courtyard-like area, where there were chains and prisoners tied to posts where they were possibly receiving a death sentence. There were several goblins that looked as if they had just been tortured to near death. Elladan smirked at their pain, still lost in thoughts of revenge, but Legolas kept walking.

Finally, they reached an old, but well kept stable where many war horses were boarded. Legolas then presented the bow and arrows and promised that he would take good care of Elrohir. "Ride swiftly to Imladris. Do not look back."

"You have been kind to me." Elladan replied. "I will not forget it. Thank you." Then, he rode off just as Legolas had asked him to.

Elrohir requested to see his twin, as he desperately wanted to hear what was going on from his most trusted friend's lips instead of a healer he had never seen before in his life. The healer, however, frowned and replied, "He is not present."

"Isn't my brother here in Mirkwood?" Elrohir asked desperately, "Surely he has decided to wait for me here while I heal!"  
"He angered the king," the healer answered. "He was sent to the dungeons and has by some strange actions, escaped!"

Elrohir in took his breath sharply, causing him pain in his ribs. His brother always managed to get into some sort of trouble, even more so than himself. What could he have possibly done to anger the king? Would he himself get thrown in a dungeon cell too?

"My dearest healer," a smooth voice came from the doorway. "If you will excuse your patient and I for a moment. I would like a word with him." At this, the healer bowed and left their presence.

"Who are you!?" Elrohir demanded. "Where is my brother? What did you do to him!?"

"Calm yourself," the elf said politely, sitting down in a pushy chair beside him. His hair was long and blonde and tended to with several perfectly formed braids. His face was a glowing white and his eyes were a glass-like blue. A crown of leaves was placed upon his head and he spoke in a gentle tone with a comforting bedside manner.

Elrohir watched him with slight familiarity but could not place the puzzle together in his weakened state. "Who are you?"  
The elf smiled warmly and replied, "I am Legolas Thranduillion, prince of the woodland realm."  
"Where is my brother!?" Elrohir began again.

The elf called Legolas lowered to a whisper, "I have sent him safely on his way to Imladris. Worry not about him. I will take care of you until you are well enough to return to Imladris yourself."

"How has he angered his highness?" Elrohir inquired.

"Your highness!" a voice called sharply.

Legolas turned his head with slight interest to find a captain of the guard with flushed cheeks. "What is it?"  
The guard with his tossled golden hair and the claw marks on his face, replied, "Dwarves attacked our hunting party. We have captured one."  
Legolas's face darkened and he excused himself from Elrohir's bedside worriedly.

Alrightly, unfortunately Thranduil has nto yet stopped being evil. And the personal fued between Imladris and Mirkwood isn't stated yet EITHER. BUT, no worries this chapter was prewritten so that wuz before I got all of your precious feedback.

Ooooohhhhh wonder what's gonna happen next!!!!! Actually I have a few more paragraphs written up already!

And………..Legolas isn't really that pompous anymore. Although I think I preferred him as pompous and girly…ahhh well. There's always next chapter!

Thank you so much and please review!

Oh, and is 'tossled' a word?


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